


Expectations...

by exbex



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, Facials, M/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: One hand is buried in Kent’s hair, holding him in place. The other is rubbing the back of Kent’s neck. He’s going in slow, deliberate circles; Kent can practically keep time to it, can ignore the protests his knees are emitting as they’re pressed into the thin rug.





	Expectations...

**Author's Note:**

> For the following prompt from the omgkinkpls.tumblr.com fest: Swoops gets his captain on his knees.

Most of the assumptions that people make about Jeff Troy are actually correct. 

It’s true that he loves basketball to a degree that would be embarrassing if it weren’t endearing. It never fails to make Kent laugh to see some poor unsuspecting soul have to listen to Troy’s fourteen-minute explanation about how basketball is actually Canadian in origin. 

He’s a goofball, basically. A lovable one who fusses over his friends just enough, and not so much that it’s annoying or intrusive. An all-around good guy. Someone who you’d take home to meet your parents.

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice his hands. Troy has some really soft hands. The Aces can’t play a single game without a commentator pointing out Troy’s dekes. 

Most people don’t know what else he can do with those hands.

One hand is buried in Kent’s hair, holding him in place. The other is rubbing the back of Kent’s neck. He’s going in slow, deliberate circles;   
Kent can practically keep time to it, can ignore the protests his knees are emitting as they’re pressed into the thin rug.

“Look at me, Cap.” The use of the familiar epithet, alongside the way Troy slowly drags his fingers across Kent’s jaw, makes Kent’s breathing quicken, makes him dizzy with want.

“You just going to stand there all day or what?” Kent smirks because he’s impatient, but also because of all the assumptions that people make about Jeff Troy that are actually correct, there’s a few that are so far off the mark. Like that Troy is just a regular guy, completely straightforward, uncomplicated. Kent knows better, knows that Troy likes to get creative, can be a little complicated and draw things out, has a kind of kinky side to him.

“Maybe I will,” Troy’s voice is pitched low, “you look good like this.” It’s not the first time Troy’s said it to him, but it still sends a shiver of pleasure down Kent’s spine.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Troy murmurs, and Kent won’t have to be told again. He watches as Troy backs away and begins to slide his sweat pants over his hips, watches as Troy’s huge hand takes his own cock and strokes, slow and even as if he’s never had a reason to hurry in his life. “No, keep that mouth closed,” he orders, and suddenly Kent has forgotten about any pain in his knees. Troy is close again, and Kent tilts his head back without having to be asked so that Troy can paint his face with come, drag his fingers through it and card them through Kent’s hair.

It leaves Kent aching for more, but he forces himself to be silent as he watches Troy clean himself up and pull his sweat pants back up to rest on his hips.

“You look good like this,” he repeats, and Kent feels the rest of the world slip away.

“If you’re good,” Troy croons, “and stay right there for just a little while longer, I’ll fuck you later.”

Kent’s breath hitches at the words. It’s a promise that makes him go still, even as the anticipation sends a shiver through him.


End file.
